


Anything but Temptation

by notquitecreative



Category: Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-01 16:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitecreative/pseuds/notquitecreative
Summary: Phil Lester, a young man in Victorian London has everything he could ask for, luxurious things, witty friends and a warm family. That is, until he finds a young actress perform in a shabby theatre and immediately falls in love, entirely oblivious this is really Dan Howell wearing a wig.





	1. Prelude

 

Phil paused on the piano as he inspected the notes to the musical piece he was playing, his fingers poised over the ivories of his Bluthner. It was late afternoon, the sky behind the curtains were slightly bleak, but Phil did not mind for he had the pleasure of his friend's company over tea and conversation. They had had lunch that afternoon commenting on what was happening in London, with PJ making an analytical criticism and Chris cracking jokes. After a card game, and several long hours reading, and an argument over PJ smoking, they had settled to having tea to resolve the tension.

"Hasn't anyone realized I've been embarrassingly off key?" Phil asked.

"What were you saying?" PJ asked, looking up from the newspaper. "Sorry, I'm afraid i haven't been paying attention. It appears that Mr.Tawney has married the Dowager Countess Einar's only daughter. It's probably set him up for life, nay a couple generations."

"Perhaps you should be taking notes from Mr. Tawney Phil. What of Miss Fletcher? you seem to get along with her quite well." Chris added from where he was sitting at the redwood settee, taking bites out of his cucumber sandwich.

"She's got a lovely singing voice, and great hair, but we're only friends and I don't wish to change that." Phil replied, swiveling around to reclaim his cup of Ceylon Tea. He liked Carrie, she had a bright happy personality, and besides, they had been childhood friends. It seemed unthinkable to ever consider her as a spouse.

"Phil, while it might seem fine to you that have the temperament of a field of daffodils you might find that the ladies prefer a sense of danger and adventure." Chris said, smirking. 

Wonderful, now that the two were not arguing it seemed they had begun to gang up on Phil. The bombardment of teasing was not unfimiliar. PJ and Chris were both friends Phil had acquired in London, both of them young, handsome and best of all, with a never-ending repertoire of humor.

"Are you then, Chris, able to say that you posses this trait?"

"I was simply pointing it out" Chris shrugged.

"Speaking of romance and adventure, I have a surprise for both of you." PJ announced

"Should I be wary?" Phil asked, already dreading what sort of mischief the other had planned without his knowledge.

"A couple of my footmen have gone down with the flu, poor fellows. They had planned to visit this theatre..." PJ squinted at the letters on his tickets, "for a play probably written for the lower classes, but gave up the seats to me on the promise that I would replace them with tickets for another day."

"That's awfully nice of you," Phil commented. 

:"And I thought, why not? It'll be refreshing change from the dreary opera house for certain."

"Well.... " Phil paused. "I quite like the opera..."

"Come on, Philip. It is time to venture into strange waters, for are we not young men ready to experience new things?" Chris demanded.

""I'm entirely for trying new things." Phil laughed, "Only i don't see what being young men has to do with it."

"That's the spirit!" PJ cheered. "Now shall I book dinner at our regular spot or will you?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize if I've got anything wrong about British history or culture as I'm not a Brit and I didn't do much research. Please feel free correct me.


	2. A Phantom of Delight

"You can't smoke before a performance."

"I'd like to see you try and stop me."

"All right, at least give me a puff" Dan Howell handed over the cigarette in his hand to Tom Ska as he surveyed himself in the mirror. "What do you think? Convincing?" Dan asked.

"As always." Tom replied, taking a drag.

Dan smirked and smoothed out the folds of his ruby red dress. It smelled a bit like perfume and cigarettes - he had put it on a few times too many. His long brunette wig was held firm on his head with hairpins and his corset was fastened tightly to make his waist look smaller - he has at first wondered how women even survived walking in the dress, much less sing, dance or run in it but had long since mastered the art of doing so.

"I overheard the dancers during practice. They sound rather jealous." Tom said.

"Of what? My stuffed dress front?" Dan scoffed.

"That you get to act in the lead role and they don't."

"I would feel bad, except I need a job too and I'd fare better acting than doing cartwheels in ballet shoes."

"True. You couldn't walk a straight line without falling over." Tom laughed.

Dan wrested his cigarette from Tom and gave it a last huff before killing it on the dresser.

"I'm completely aware of my terrible coordination skills. I don't need you to point it out. Which is why I need you not to drop me mid-performance, or I'll kill you in your sleep."

"Duly noted." Tom said, laughing as he put on his jacket that was embroidered for his role as a snobbish young man who's to fall in love with a country girl.

Dan paused, checking his reflection in the mirror one last time, and satisfied with the way he looked, gathered his courage to perform. It was strange- he was not a very confident person and used to be terrified of rejection, but his role as the character Gwendolen helped him don a persona that was distanced from himself. Sometimes the crowed booed, but he did not take it to heart because for some reason, the dress and the make-up gave him a sort of bravado to do anything he wanted.

But tonight, he told himself as he did before every performance, he was going to be a star.

. . . . . . . . . . .

"Do we not get refreshments before the show?"

"Apparently not. You could buy some salted peanuts though."

"Interesting. Do they come in little newspaper packets?" Phil was getting rather embarrassed with Chris and Pj's discussion.

"I feel as if the others are looking at us peculiarly."

"Should we have dressed down?"

"Don't be patronizing"

The three of them settled into their slightly dog eared seats, Phil rather uneasily and Chris and PJ still arguing in loud whispers. Meanwhile, the rest of the theater started filling in with the sound of people laughing and engaging in avid conversation echoing around the poorly built theatre as the stage lights began to dim.

"Doesn't look half bad. I hope it's a comedy. We get enough tragedies as it is"

"Shush, its starting. Anyways, comedies are so droll if not done right"

"What would you know about it?"

"Well I for one-" Chris was immediately silenced by an old lady who was sitting in front of him, and Chris immediately closed his mouth. Phil laughed silently as the two actors entered the stage, followed by a man who played the butler. They then proceeded to have a hilarious conversation while devouring cucumber sandwiches.

"oh my- this is better than I expected." PJ commented, as he watched the play with rapt attention.

Chirs was silently laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

 

_It is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn’t a dentist.  It produces a false impression._

 

Phil was impressed. The playwright's vein of comedy was simple enough for the entire theatre to be roaring with laughter, and yet sophisticated enough to be a mockery of the upper classes. Very soon, an actress appeared on stage, in a beautiful red dress, her manners suggesting her absolute confidence in herself.

The main character then turned to to her said, _Dear me, you are smart!_

 _I am always smart!_ Gwendolen replied cheekily, and for some reason Phil was immediately mystified.

The actress had a beautiful voice, extensive acting talent and impeccable comedic timing.

 _It is high time that Mr. Bunbury made up his mind whether he was going to live or to die.  This shilly-shallying with the question is absurd_! said another character, who was playing Gwendolen's aunt, and Chris and PJ were beside themselves.

"Oh, I'm never going back to the opera! This is genius, eh, Phil?" Pj nudged Phil with his elbow, but Phil was barely paying attention to his friends.

 

_You really love me, Gwendolen?_

 

_Passionately!_

 

Phil fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. As much as he liked the characters and wished them to have a happy ending, there was a feeling of slight jealousy twisting inside him that went against his very nature. It's only a play, Phil, he reminded himself.

Phil found that despite everything, he was thoroughly enjoying the play. By the time the curtains closed, he was rather sad it was over.

"Thank you for bringing me here, PJ, it was something. The plot was transparent enough I could predict what was going to happen and yet I couldn't tear my eyes off the stage." he said, turning to his friend.

"You're such a sap, Phil" Chis commented. "My favorite character has to be the aunt, for certain. It's only in fiction picturesque romances take place."

Phil countered, "All the more reason to enjoy it. Besides, the actress did a wonderful; she was simply spectacular."

At this, Chris and PJ shared a knowing glance, but Phil didn't quite know what the wordless exchange signified. He did know, however that there was a glint of mischief on both their faces.

"You know Phil, since you're so enamored with the lady-" Chris began, putting his arm around Phil's shoulders in a comradely fashion.

"I'm not! " Phil denied a little too quickly, "just simply appreciating her talent, that's all!"

"Quite right." PJ said linking arms with Phil on the other side, "now, if I were the young maiden, I wouldn't notice your applause at all. What's a pair of hands in a hundred? You ought to show your support more ardently, Phil."

"Do you think so?" Phil asked. "How?"

"Why don't you send her flowers? Imagine how thrilled she'd be to receive gifts as proof of her good talents. She might be thinking otherwise if her dressing room were empty. In fact, you should go and see her yourself"

"Well I- ahem - isn't that a bit too much? After all, she might misunderstand" Phil said, blushing slightly at the thought. He was generally not a shy person, but also wasn't someone who displayed his emotions so blatantly, afraid he might offend someone he did not mean to.

"Nonsense, old chap. You of all people should know the importance of moral support in artistic endeavors" Phil felt a little nervous at the thought, but realized his friends were right. It was merely appreciation, and how else will the actress know if Phil only kept it to himself?

"All right," Phil conceded. "Let me obtain a bouquet of red roses- I mean - women do prefer red, don't they?"

Both PJ and Chris were giving him a slightly too happy grin. "Of course"

* * *

 

After the play, when Phil had disappeared to purchase flowers, Chris and PJ gave each other a look and burst into laughter. "How, for the love of god; does he not notice she's actually a bloke in a dress?"

"Oh, Philip , poor innocent Philip. She's actually the first girl to have such an impression on him too." Chris said shaking his head mournfully.

" I think we should get him some dinner afterwards, just to console him."

"And a bottle of wine"

"Carbarnet Sauvignon?"

"Agreed"

* * *

 

"There's a nobby bloke outside to see you."

"What do you mean nobby?"

"Posh. Dandy."

"I know what it means. I meant did he wander in here by mistake or something?"

"Who knows? Thought I'd give you a heads up. Call out for me if you need any help."

"Me? Help? Stop kidding yourself."

"All right. Spare a smoke?" Dan rolled his eyes as Tom selected his choice of cigarettes and left the room, allowing a young man to enter.

Dan's eyes roved over the figure carefully. Tom was not mistaken. The young man's dressing jacket could probably have bought Dan lodging for a month. What was interesting about him, however, was that despite the fact that his suit was smart, his hair was neatly combed and he possessed a translucent shade of turquoise blue eyes, he seemed quite uncertain of himself, as if he had no right to be there.

Dan then noticed the bouquet of roses the colour of red velvet and tried to bite back a smile.

"I thought- well I just came to-" the man started with a slightly deeper voice than Dan's and then faltered at Dan's gaze. "to... to say you were incredible."

Dan fought back the desire to laugh. He found it slightly endearing. The stranger was getting completely flustered because of Dan and was probably one of the fools who needed an optical specialist. Dan had met the type before, and most of them running home as soon as they found out they were mistaken. He distinctly remembered a particular member of the audience who delivered an array of insults to Dan's face, to retaliate for having accidentally fallen in love with a man. Dan raised his eyebrow.

"Why, thank you." Dan replied, dropping his persona, voice going an octave lower than the voice he used on stage. He discarded all pretense of being a woman, and pulled off his wig to ruffle his curly brown hair. Dan tried not to smile in satisfaction when the other spluttered and nearly dropped his bouquet.

"You're- that is- er...."

"Were you of the impression that a six foot tall man prancing about the stage with a high-pitched voice was actually a pretty girl? My, maybe we should start handing out lorgnettes? Or change your seats to the front row so you can see better?"

"I was on the second row."

"Of course you were." Dan replied.

"Well.." the other said as if adding together the facts in his head as Dan pulled out a cigarette from a box.

"Have you got a match? I think Tom stole mine."

"I do, actually" the young man replied, brought out of a stupor. " I don't smoke myself, but a friend of mine did and it's become something of a habit to carry it around."

"I see" Dan said, taking the match.

"Thank you" He lit his cigarette. "So, is there anything you wish to say?"

"Um.. yes." Phil said, remembering the bouquet of flowers in his hands. "These are for you. I really liked your performance."

Dan arched his eyebrows. "That's a first. Most of them rescind their offer of flowers and dinners as soon as I reveal my barely concealed secret."

"Well," Phil said shrugging, "it isn't as if the quality of your performance changes with your gender."

For a moment, it was Dan who was stunned, as he struggled to wrap the words wrap around his head, trying not to let his heart flutter at the sentence. Well, that was the first time he'd heard those words. _It's all a ruse_ , _Dan_ , he told himself, _these rich men are eloquent speakers. They haven't anything else to do all day after all._

"Ahem, thank you very much." Dan accepted the roses and their fragrance wafted up to his nose, making the corners of his lips twitch upwards. There was a peculiarly warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach that Dan didn't usually feel and had difficulty acknowledging. Dan inspected the stranger before him and realized he didn't even know the man's name.

"I'm not very familiar with nobles. Should I know who you are?"

"Oh no, I keep to myself. I don't really like parties and press-worthy occasions."

"I see."

"Philip Lester, or just plain Phil."

"Daniel Howell. Everyone calls me Dan"

Phil tentatively offered a hand and Dan shook it. When their eyes met, Dan suddenly wished they had met under different circumstances, that Dan was of the same lifestyle as Phil was, that they might meet every weekend for tea and biscuits.

"I thought- well- someone like you might be more suited to opera?" Dan stared at him for a moment, looking into the man's eyes to see if he was joking. Phil's earnest blue eyes told him he was not. Dan burst into laughter.

"Opera? Me?"

"I'm being perfectly serious. You have a flair for the performing arts. I know that this vein of satire is of commendable quality considering its production budget, but I know of many people who would come to see you perform."

"That's high praise, but tell me, do you think my fake soprano is going to measure against actual opera songstresses?"

"Well," Phil seemed to think for a while. "You could just-"

"Stop. I appreciate your concern for my future, but it really isn't yours to worry about, I thank you again for the flowers. Do come again to see the play. We're putting up a new one next week."

"I shall be there. Good day, Miss- I mean-Dan" Phil then stopped at the door. "Not that this matters in any way, but out of sheer curiosity, do you dress this way.." he gestured at Dan's dress, "all of the time?"

"Only if there's money involved. Not that I mind either way."

"I see" Phil dipped his head politely and left.

Dan realized he had forgotten all about his cigarette which had neared its end without him enjoying most of it. He looked at himself in the mirror to wipe off the paint on his face and realized he was blushing a little bit. Oh no.

"Godamn" he swore to himself, throwing down the wet cloth ruefully. "I might be feeling _emotions_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks for making it till here. Don't know why you did.  
> The play, (obviously) is "the Importance of being Earnest" by Oscar Wilde.


	3. When alteration finds

Dan sat in the pub with his only friend, Tom, who seemed to know almost everyone who passed by their table.

“Ain’t it a bit too early to be drinking?” a tall man with a ginger beard asked, clapping Tom by the shoulder as he walked by and Tom held up a hand in greeting.

“You know me, I drink in the day and work at night”

This made the man laugh, but Dan raised his eyebrow at Tom.

“Really? You just made us sound like something else.”

“How different are we, really?” Tom asked.

“You have a good point.” Dan conceded, sipping his pint of beer.

“Actually Tom, Freddie’s here to meet you.” the ginger man continued talking to Tom, and after a conversation about old acquaintances and farewells, Tom looked apologetically at Dan.

“Sorry, Dan I’ve got to go.”

“It’s fine. Don’t be late for the play.”

“I won’t.”

Dan watched as Tom left the table and considered the wisdom of ordering another pint. He wasn’t very drunk yet, but on the other hand, he only had a light lunch and that might not be a good idea. Besides, he was getting paid next week and his wallet was getting rather thin.

The pub was only half full- it was too early for the night crowd- it was too late for lunch. The only other patrons were a few sad folks who quietly sat by themselves looking as if they wished to drown in their beer.

He sighed, and started to feel the bad thoughts coming in. It always happened in quiet moments, which was why he liked the theatre- people were always either singing, laughing playing cards, arguing or rehearsing. There never was a quiet moment. When the world was quiet, however, he had only himself for company and that was never a good thing.

Why was he even in London? Dan had left home because he wanted to make a living as an artist, but so far had managed to do nothing but distance himself from his family. He hadn’t written to his mother for years. At first he had been so ashamed that he was only cast as a minor role no one cared about in every play, until his luck turned and the lead actress had gotten engaged to a man in Italy. The manager, unable to find a replacement at short notice offered Dan the lead role, under the ‘conditions’ and while Dan had no qualms dressing as a woman to perform, he didn’t particularly want to inform his family of it.

After a while, people started filing in and the bartender was starting to give him dirty looks for sitting there with an empty glass for so long, so he decided to leave.

The streets looked as they usually did, cobblestoned and grey, people going about their business, shop fronts closing and pubs opening. The sky was beginning to turn purple and Dan wished there was a remedy for the ache in his chest he felt every time he walked back home alone… that is, if he could consider the theatre his home. Since he couldn’t find affordable lodgings on his own, he had to stay at the theatre, which gave the manager even more reason to reduce his pay.

“Hey! I know you!”

Dan was startled out of his trail of thought by a raucous yell across the street. He looked up- he was in one of the emptier streets where the street urchins liked to hang about, and there were about three teenagers in clothes as shabby as Dan’s standing by a street lamp. Their shoulders were slouched, one of them with a cigarette between his fingers.

“Aren’t you the cross-dresser at theatre down the road?”

Dan groaned inwardly. He hated meeting people who recognized him on the street- it never spelled anything but trouble. Dan was accustomed to it, and it wasn’t very difficult for him to let it go and keep walking the way he was heading.

“Aw right- he’s the fairy-aint he?”

Dan rolled his eyes and pushed his hands in his pockets, beginning to get irritated. But it was all just in his head. Dan wasn’t the sort of person who liked confrontation- he would rather just run than fight, and he really had nothing to lose his temper about. The little idiots just didn’t know better and Dan just had to be the adult and leave.

 “Are you really queer?”

“Do you suck cock for money?”

At that point, Dan lost his patience, or maybe it was the little bit of beer warm in his chest that made him act that way, but he turned around and yelled, “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“He does!” One of them hollered, and the others fell apart laughing. “Don’t like to talk about it? How much you get for, you know, each job?”

Blood was roaring in his ears, and for a moment, he fantasized turning around and putting them straight. Sometimes lessons are best learnt the hard way. The boys looked large for their age, with pimples and square jaws, but Dan was a man in his early twenties- and over six feet tall and he didn’t really fear a trio of annoying kids.

He was so worked up that he hadn’t heard a carriage arrive behind him, cloven hooves clattering on the street. It had screeched to a halt, and a person poked his head out the window.

“Dan?”

Dan turned around furiously and came face to face with Phil, who was looking out with a concerned expression on his face.

“Is everything all right?”

At the sight of the carriage and the fact that Phil was impeccably well dressed, the teenagers scattered faster than the wind. Dan’s anger was still thumping in his veins, but then, he didn’t know what he would have done. He obviously wouldn’t have been able to hit anyone, and if anything he would probably have gotten beaten to a pulp but at the same time the inability to retaliate to the degrading comments left him feeling frustrated.

“It’s…” Dan tried to calm himself down by taking a deep breath. “fine.”

“Were you heading back to the theatre? Let me take you.” Phil offered.

“No, thank you, it’s really just down the street-“

“Please, allow me.”

Dan paused, and then realized that if he walked back alone he was going to get frustrated or melancholic again so he took the proffered hand and hauled himself up into the carriage.

Just seeing Phil Lester’s face was therapeutic. Dan marvelled at how nice the carriage smelled and how bright Phil’s smile was, across the seats. Phil was also, unlike most London gentlemen, wearing bright colours. His coat was regular black, but his waistcoat was bright violet, and his bow tie was in intricate designs. Dan again, found this somewhere between amusing and endearing and decided it was just Phil’s very nature to be both.

“Where were you heading?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrow, because this was not a place that people of Phil’s social standing frequented.

“The theatre, actually.” Phil answered, looking rather abashed.

“But it’s too early.” Dan pointed out.

“I know, I thought I might see you first.”

“Oh.” Dan replied, nodding as if nothing was out of the ordinary and stared out the window as the horse carriage clattered along the street. There was no fooling anyone, however, because he had to bite his lips to prevent himself from smiling.

“You did invite me, as I recall.”

“I did.” Dan replied, looking directly at Phil. “And you came. I’m quite surprised, frankly.”

Phil grinned. “I keep my promises. Besides, if I’m not mistaken, today’s performance is to be about fairies, and I’m ridiculously enthusiastic about magical folk.”

Dan was a bit too taken aback for a while at Phil’s choice of wording- he had heard the word applied only a few minutes ago, directed at him to insult and hurt, and yet here, Phil’s application was entirely innocent, and filled with nothing but light-heartedness and goodwill.

“Well, you’re in luck. Hopefully Tom isn’t too drink-sodden to perform.”

“Is that a common occurrence?” Phil asked, chuckling.

“It’s theatre- what do you expect?” Dan replied with a smile.

* * *

 

Phil acquired Chrysanthemums this time, and he was rather relieved that Dan did not notice the package on the carriage, just so that he could surprise Dan after the performance. In his dressing room, Dan looked tired, but his face was glowing from what Phil could only interpret as happiness. Phil was beginning to realize that Dan was very passionate about acting, and he enjoyed every moment of being on stage. At the moment, Dan had pulled off his wigs, and the sweat had made his hair curl in an unruly fashion.

“You’re not actually going to do this every night are you?” Dan asked, as Phil presented the new bouquet. Phil would otherwise assume that Dan did not enjoy this custom of being presented flowers, but the look on his face as he looked at the blossoms said otherwise.

“Is there a problem? I’ve found that giving gifts has a rewarding effect on both parties.”

“Only if both parties have equal admiration for each other.” The other replied cheekily.

“And would you say it is true of this instance?” Phil shot back, not giving in. This incredibly enjoyable back-and-forth was something he could only achieve with Dan, who seemed to tap into the same vein of thought as he did. Conversation required very little effort, and Phil wished he was allocated more time than these brief visits behind the curtains.

“Well, one should hope so.” Dan replied, in an exasperated tone, and Phil laughed.

For a moment, Dan looked around the room trying to find a vase to put the flowers, and Phil patiently waited. Having found none, Dan uncorked an old wine bottle and slotted the flowers inside them, placing them by the mirror, surveying how they looked.  

“Actually, Dan, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say-“ Phil started, but was cut off by a yell,

“DAN! BOSS WANTS TO SEE YOU!”

“Tell him I’m coming!” Dan yelled back, loud as he could. Then, turning to Phil prompted, “yes?”

“Actually…” Phil fidgeted with his cuffs. What he was going to say was not something that deserved to be said in a rush. It was better to take his time. Moreover, he was feeling rather flushed and might need some time to recollect himself. “I think you’re busy. Shall I come back next week?”

Dan’s expectant expression drooped a little into one of slight disappointment, but quickly recovered. Dan smiled, displaying those ever so prominent dimples that made him look incredibly beautiful and raised his eyebrows. “Do you want to?”

“Only if there are fairies.” Phil replied jokingly.  

* * *

 

Phillip’s older brother came in for a drink completely unexpectedly, and Phil hurriedly welcomed the man indoors. He had been about to go to the theatre, which he had been frequenting a lot lately, but he deemed family was more important.

The butler took Martyn’s hat and coat as Martyn took a seat on the nearest armchair. Both Martyn and Phil were of tall stature and many had commented on how similar they looked.

“Were you heading out? Don’t let me keep you if it’s important business.” Martyn said.

“Oh, it’s nothing of import. Just a recent pastime of mine.”

“My brother enjoys going out? What next? London must be getting warmer by December.”

Phillip took it in good humour and motioned for the butler to fetch them drinks.

“what brings you here, Martyn?”

“I was around. Father sent me to the bank for business, and I thought I’d surprise you. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening.”

“Not at all. How is father and mother?”

“Oh, the usual. They were thinking of selling the estate-“

Phil spluttered on his drink, “No!”

“But I convinced them to keep it.”

 “What drove them to it? are we not earning enough?”

“That’s the gist of it, although I think I can remedy it somewhat by shifting businesses around.”

“I wish I could be of more help. Shall I come back?”

“Stay in London. You’re more useful here. Also, you might be the most reclusive of gentlemen but anything mundane and ordinary never interested you either, which would have been all that is waiting for you in the countryside.”

Phil had to agree. He did love growing up at the family estate. As a child there was nothing better than the acres of farms, cottages and gardens to run around in, and play adventuring, but as he grew older he began to long for the life only inside the books he read. He sighed. “thank goodness.”

“You seemed utterly relieved, Phil. Have you really fallen in love with London? Or perhaps there is someone you cannot part with.”

Phil put down his drink to avoid the mistake of seeming nervous. He had come to London quite a while ago, and had settled comfortably there in his own apartment. For one thing, it was quite lonely, having the spacious apartments to himself with only the butler and cook, and in another way it was quite exciting to make new friends and forge his own path.

“It’s just the usual friends, you know, Chris and PJ.”

“And what have they dragged you into now?”

“The theatre.”

“That isn’t new. You’ve always devoured every production of play in our library.”

“I know. There’s this particular performer who just does a marvelous job of-“

“Oh, you’re infatuated with an actress. That’s easy enough to understand. Half the young men in the audience were in love with Christina when she played Tatiana.”

“Well…” Phil could never explain what Dan was to him to anyone else. Dan was an actor, satirist, and yet none of them individually. His personality, while seemingly caustic and cold on the outside was completely warm and caring once you had grown to know him, as Phil has been making an effort to do so these past few weeks.

“You know I support all your endeavours. Support the theatre if it’s good business. But don’t go falling too hard, for the girl. They’re quite temperamental, like dragonflies. You can only catch them once, and then they’re gone, forever.”

Phil stared at his brother, at a loss for words. His brother had voiced his inner fears. He quite enjoyed the sarcastic conversation, the jokes and the debates about theatre, and mainly the joy on the starlet’s face when he brought the young man flowers, but on the other hand, was it only a front, a façade so as not to offend Phil, his most ardent supporter. If Phil had not been endowing Dan with so much attention, would he have been just as charming towards him?

Will there be a point when, Phil would visit the theatre, and Dan would turn the other way, having found something better?

“Well, are you going to offer me dinner, or do I have to dine in town?”

* * *

 

“I didn’t think I saw you in the crowd yesterday. And the week before that” Dan said to the mirror, then shook his head. “What does it concern me? He possibly got bored of lower-class entertainment.”

Dan furrowed his brows, and realized his happiness had been very dependent on seeing a particular well-dressed figure in the front row, cheering him on with a puppy-dog expression on his face at the first night of every play. Whether Dan thought he recited his lines perfectly or nearly tripped over his own dress, Phil would visit him in his dressing room with a bouquet of the most beautiful blossoms, so much so that Dan wondered if he had bought a flower conservatory in the process.

“Come on, Dan. He’s probably got some function to attend or something.” He tried to convince himself, “or went on a trip to India. They probably have beautiful dancers there.”

Dan sighed, carrying his dress out of the room. “You’re pathetic, Dan, get a hold of yourself.”

That night’s performance was undeniably wooden. Even the audience could sense it. Tom seemed to have drunk a bit before coming over on stage and kept repeating the same lines twice. Dan tried to make up for it by rushing his lines before Tom could open his mouth, but Dan had had the last straw when one of the ballet dancers slipped off the stage and fell into one of the audience.

This is a disaster of epic proportions. Dan groaned to himself, as he hurriedly tried to finish the show as the ballet dancer was carried to the infirmary by some of the stage hands. Everyone knew that come hell or high heaven, the show must go on. In any case, the manager was still going to chew their ear off afterwards. Maybe he could sneak off for a drink before that eventuality occurred.

Yes, that would be ideal, Dan thought, as he walked off the stage, taking off his wig and wiping  the sweat off his brow. He changed into his shirt, jacket and trousers, wiping off the rouge on his face. His hair was still going to look like wood shavings no matter how hard he attempted to straighten it, so he gave up on that.

And there was a knock on his dressing room door.

“Tom? I’m out of cigarettes anyway, so go get them somewhere else.” He yelled at the door, not in the mood for any kind of banter.

The door opened by himself, and Dan whirled around, finding himself getting a face full of lilies

“Well, what the hell are you doing here?” Dan asked in accusation, and then stopped because Phil looked like a kicked puppy. In all honesty, Dan was simply taking out his frustrations on someone else; he had not meant to sound so hostile. Besides, this was the only way he knew how to show how much he missed Phil - he did not know how else to portray it. 

Phillip Lester cleared his throat and tried to remedy the situation, although he had not done anything remotely wrong. “I’d like to apologize I haven’t been to see you lately, I’ve been busy.”

“You’re not obliged to visit me. Who am I? Your sick grandmother?”

“No.” Phil gave a nervous chuckle. “It’s just that… it’s become a bit of a habit, and you might be wondering where I went and…”

“Well,” Dan said, as he tried very hard not to smile at the fact that Phil was in his room with a armful of flowers and everything was right in the  world again. No, he was trying his best to look cross even though he was spectacularly failing. He freed the wine bottle from the dead flowers from two weeks before and replaced them with the new ones. “About time too. I thought you might have choked on caviar or something, if that’s a thing that happens. I think it’s a thing that happens. Not that I care.”

“What a magnificent way to die- if I were the sort of person who liked Caviar. I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time to see the play.”

“You would have liked it, it was pandemonium. The manager's going to get us in line and tell us off like a marshal, and-“

Too late. A portly mustachioed man in a brown suit entered the room, looking very ill-tempered.

“I want you out of here with the cast in two minutes” the man said, and noticing Phil for the first time asked, “And who might you be, sir?”

“Ah, it’s a pleasure to meet you. A pleasure” Phil said, reaching out for the man’s hand before he could do anything. Dan watched in amusement as Phil shook his hand so enthusiastically that his bowler hat bobbed on his red, fleshy hat. “I’ve always been mad for the performing arts, and my family has always taken me to an opera since I was a child. Seeing all the good work you’ve done here, I thought you might be in need of an investor? I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Philip Lester. My family has an estate in Lancashire.”

“Do you?” The man replied, and he was so short compared to both Phil and Dan that his head only reached the level of Phil’s waistcoat buttons, but that might have been more convenient since he was eye to eye with the gold chain that was hanging from his pocket watch. Having decided that Phil was made of money, he gave him a wide grin, and clasped Phil with both hands.

“Of course, the Lester family. How could I not know? I’m very honoured to have you in my humble establishment, good sir.”

“Ah, I thought I’d come in to tell you that I might patronize the theatre if I find it to my liking? Some other time perhaps, it’s quite late, and I’m due for dinner.” Phil said.

“You are? That’s a shame. I could show you right now-“

“Oh, no, I promise on my mother’s good name that I’ll come back tomorrow. I was just taking Daniel out for dinner.”

“You are?” Dan and the director said at the same time.

Dan then leaned against the dresser and quickly rectified his surprise with a wave of a hand. “I mean he is. Couldn’t miss it sir, he booked a fancy restaurant and everything.”

“Really?” The man asked in disbelief, looking back and forth from Dan and Phil. “All right then, I shouldn’t keep you. I’ll be having a word with you when you’re back, Howell.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” Dan yelled as he grabbed his hat and coat, and quickly ushered Phil out the door.

It was only when they had reached the cool evening air of the streets outside, that the both of them started laughing in unison.

“That was incredible” Dan laughed, clasping Phil on the shoulder. “ I didn’t think you had it in you, Phil.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are. I swear I’ve never lied so fast and so quickly in a lifetime.”

“So, it was a lie, about the dinner and everything?” Dan asked, putting on his best theatre smile, even though inside his heart felt a little bit bruised and battered.

“I haven’t booked a fancy restaurant… but I reckon I might get a table for two at La Prince Charmant. Possibly.” Phil replied, and instantaneously, Dan felt tremendously lighter.

“Shall we find out, then?"

* * *

 

Dan looked spectacular in dresses, and Dan looked incredible in his black coat. Dan's clothes did not seem very new, but they were clean and well pressed. Phil, now, under decent lighting and all the time in the world to observe Dan’s features, saw that in addition to his large brown eyes and curls, he had dimples on his cheeks, which graced themselves to full view whenever Dan smiled, either sarcastically or whole-heartedly.

“I sold newspapers, I sold cigarettes, I did all number of odd jobs just to get piano lessons, only to be tutored by a witch.”

Phil laughed. “Maybe you’re exaggerating, just a tiny bit?”

“I swear to you, she had raw meat in her pantry, no spices, no vegetables, just raw meat, she was a cannibal.”

“That’s horrible. And I thought my music lessons were bad.”

“Oh, yes, the charities and the galas must have been so terrible for you, Phil.” Dan rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“Well, I don’t pretend to have a terrible lot in life, but I could tell a few stories of my  own. I nearly drowned once, on a vacation. I’ve been scared of deep water ever since.”

“Oh, really I nearly blinded myself with perfume when I was late for rehearsal. Also, I have two female alter egos called Becky and Jessica. Try to top that level of eccentricity.”

“When I was a child, I invented a place called the shadow realm and would have long conversations with my own shadow and imagined him talking back to me.”

“That’s incredibly much more macabre than I’d imagined.” Dan replied, raising his eyebrow.

The waiter interrupted them mid-speech by clearing away their desert, and it was only then that Phil realized how long they’ve been there as if he had just woken from a pleasant dream.

“Apparently, we’ve been talking for hours.”

“I don’t see why you sound so surprised since there were at least five fucking courses.”

“I feel as if I’d just got here. Time does fly when you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Finally, somebody who enjoys my company other than the dressing room mirror.”

Phil had barely registered the creaminess of the mushroom soup, or the deliciousness of the quail. The bread and butter were hot and fragrant, and Phil was finding it to be one of the best dinners he’d ever had. He didn’t want it to end. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and Phil realized that it wasn’t fair of him to keep Dan up so late at night.

Phil paid the bills, and sent for a coach, even though Dan looked rather uncomfortable about the fact that he didn’t pay and kept searching his coat pockets for some loose cash.

“I’ve got a few pounds.” Dan said, pulling out crumpled bills that looked a little worse for wear.

“You can buy me a drink later.” Phil promised the young man, and Dan seemed appeased.

“Fine. I’d like to take you to the Grinning Gryphon to see what you’d make of it.”

“I’m sure I’d love it.”

They alighted the coach, and watched the dull grey streets of London bathed in moonlight. The air seemed filled with the scent of non-existent blooms, as if phantom flowers sprouted wherever the horse’s hooves hit the cobblestones. Phil paid little attention to the swaying of the coach, but felt a heavy silence hanging between them, even though Dan seemed to be half-smiling in the pale light.

There was something Phil had been nurturing the courage to say all night, and decided then was the time.

“I’m a terrible liar, as you know.” Phil started, heart thudding inside his chest. He had all his life attempted to talk to girls, but he had never felt so nervous as he did at the moment. Phil had had a very long time to think about his sexual orientation. He had mostly been shielded of it back home, but by the time he arrived in London it was apparent that the world was not as black and white most people wished it to be. Phil still knew it was illicit for men to be in love with each other and yet he had no other word to describe how he felt with the young man sitting in the carriage with him. 

Dan’s gaze shifted from the scenery to Phil in the dark of the carriage.

“Obviously.”

“Some people have thought it unwise for me to spend my evenings with….”

Dan stared for a moment, and then looked back out the window, all expressions of joy gone from his face.

“With me. I expect so.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been to the theatre so often these past few weeks, I’ve been busy with my brother, and also thinking of what I want to do. I feel it unfair that I’ve been visiting you like this with no promise of anything, and that’s less than what you deserve.”

“Where is this going? Get to the point, man, we’re not having a soliloquy, are we?” Dan said, impatiently, in a half joking manner.

Phil felt his breath catch in his throat, realizing that if they weren’t in a carriage, Dan would probably be leaving right about now. Alarmed by how quickly he was losing the other, Phil quickly thought about the right words to say, even though he had practiced this so many times.

He then decided then that in pursuit of happiness, he must have courage and soldier on. It was something Phil would not be able to forgive himself for, if he lost his nerve. Tonight was not one he wished to remember with regret. He would rather it be of bravery.

“I want to take you to functions and galas. I want you to meet my friends and my family. I want you to become a part of my life. If it’s not to much to ask, and if you’ll have me.” Phil said, mumbling over his words in jittery excitement. 

The few moments that followed seemed like eternity. Dan’s eyes widened and he fidgeted with the hem of his coat as he looked out the window. It was too dark to analyze Dan's expression, but Phil got the feeling that his advances were not going to be scorned. Slowly, but surely, his face spread into a smile.

“This was the most fun I’ve ever had. In any case, I’m always willing to find some excitement. So long as there’s food involved and quiet music.”

Phil could not believe his ears. Dan had not rejected him. It was a little surreal, and Phil had difficulty believing the moment was actually occurring before his very eyes. Always, in the plays love was gained so easily, always, real life has proved him wrong. 

Except this time.

He was smiling fit to burst, and he was sure Dan could see how happy Phil was too. Phil felt this moment was monumental and it was very crucial to tread carefully in this newfound state of utopia. And of course, Phil defaulted to his usual nonsensical trail of thought in times of crisis.

"Do you ever think about how a carriage drawn by unicorns would be the ultimate way to travel?"

Dan for a moment looked at Phil in half- exasperation, half amusement at the bizarre change of track in conversation and simply laughed.

 

* * *

 


End file.
